


The First Rule is...

by jackles67



Series: we don't talk about it [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackles67/pseuds/jackles67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared and Jensen aren't friends. They just have... an arrangement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Rule is...

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of like really slight D/s. High school AU.

They don’t talk, outside of fucking. Jared doesn’t question it - Jensen’s still the star cheerleader, still a fucking senior, still one of the hottest guys Jared’s ever seen, and Jared’s still… Jared. 

Jared sometimes thinks it’s a little weirder than your basic covert high school fuck buddy deal. He’s not sure anyone else sneaks into a popular guy’s room, takes off all of his clothes and gets on the bed before said guy even comes up from dinner. Some nights Jared lives in fear of Jensen’s mom walking in, finding this fifteen year old naked kid on her son’s bed and flipping her shit. Most nights, he just waits, hard as nails while Jensen has dinner with his family. 

Jared’s not supposed to touch himself while he’s waiting and sometimes that’s more difficult than others. Tonight is one of those times and Jared blames Jensen entirely. Their school had a football game tonight and Jared went - sat with Chad, listened to Chad spew filth about all the shit he’d like to do to Sophia, his own school’s cheer captain. Jared tried to keep his eyes off his own team’s squad but God, Jensen in his uniform, Jensen leading his little group of perfect cheerleaders, Jensen holding a whole person above his head like it’s nothing… The guy has a perfect body and that uniform is made to show it off. 

And Jensen actually smiles when he’s cheering.

So Jared’s been hard since the game - the bike ride over was less than comfortable - and he’s practically shaking trying to hold still, stuck on the thought of Jensen downstairs with his perfect family while Jared slowly comes apart under this weird hold Jensen has on him.

By the time Jensen’s bedroom door swings open, Jared’s ready to beg. Sometimes Jensen has to work for it, has to push Jared until he’s reduced to a writhing, pleading mess. Tonight’s… not like that. 

Jensen looks good - hair still wet from his post-game shower, a dark green t shirt over dark jeans, that simple silver bracelet he always wears. He locks the door behind him and goes over to the stereo, switching on something loud and angry, something that ramps Jared’s excitement up from the mere association of all the other times he’s heard it. 

Jensen doesn’t say a word, just crawls onto the bed and pushes Jared until he’s lying on his back, gets a hand around Jared’s wrists and pins them above his head. He squeezes once and lets go -  _don’t move, stay just like that for me_  - and slides his hand down Jared’s side, drawing patterns on the wing of his hipbone, down to the soft inside of his thigh. The touch is so close to where Jared needs it but he can already tell Jensen’s not going there anytime soon and that fact shouldn’t light a fire in Jared’s blood but it does. 

Jensen’s touch is gentle and soft, right up until he has both hands on Jared’s thighs and then he shoves, pulls Jared open and holds him like that, shifting to his knees so he can climb between Jared’s legs. 

"Fuck, look at you," Jensen breathes, eyes trailing up from Jared’s heavy, wet cock to his flushed face. "Just fuckin’ need it, don’t you?"

Jared knows from experience that he’s expected to answer. 

"Yeah," he gasps out, "Please, Jen, c’mon."

Jensen’s laugh is quiet, dark, promising. He reaches into one pocket, struggling with his tight jeans before producing a small tube of lube. It sort of bugs Jared that he keeps it on him - like maybe he’s been fucking someone else, like maybe Jared’s not the only one he has like this - but the nagging anxiety is wiped away by the sensation of slick, blunt fingertips sliding around Jared’s hole. 

He’s always surprised by how strongly his body reacts to this - he’d tried fingering himself in the shower before, but it’s nothing like Jensen’s thick, sure fingers finding new ways to make Jared moan and beg. 

Jensen’s in a teasing mood tonight, apparently, because Jared’s being so good - keeping his legs spread, struggling to stop himself from shoving his hips down into Jensen’s touch - but Jensen still hasn’t pushed inside. He’s watching Jared, eyes fixed on his face while he slowly reduces Jared to nothing more than a shaking pile of need. 

"Saw you at the game," Jensen says, casual with an undercurrent of something new. Something dangerous. "With some guy."

Jared tries to focus on what Jensen’s saying, to rip his attention away from the excruciatingly slow slide of fingertips on sensitive skin. 

"Chad." Jared’s voice is  _wrecked_. 

Jensen’s finger shoves inside, sudden and unexpeced and so fucking good. 

"Who’s Chad?"

Fuck, how is Jared supposed think with Jensen’s finger drawing out slow and smooth, pressing back into him a little harder every time. 

"Tell me," Jensen grits out with another sharp thrust.

"Friend," he manages to gasp out. "He’s my - my best friend."

Jensen pauses for a second, adds another finger and  _twists_  just right, hitting Jared’s prostate on the upstroke and sending sparks skittering up his spine. 

"You let him fuck you?" 

Jared mumbles out something that might have been words and yelps as Jensen rubs right over his prostate, once, twice.

"You let him do this to you, Jared? You spread for him, you beg him to fuck you too?"

God, Jared might come just from Jensen’s fingers, from the way Jensen’s voice is going rough and possessive. He manages a hard shake of his head. 

"No one," Jared pants, choking back a moan as Jensen presses a third finger inside. "No one else."

"That’s right," Jensen says, smug. "No one else gets to fuck you. Just," he adds, fucking his fingers into Jared ever harder, "Just me."

"Yeah, yeah,  _God_ , please.”

"Please what?" Jensen asks, teasing, anger mostly gone from his voice. "Wanna come, Jay?"

"Yes,  _fuck_ , please Jensen c’mon, pleasepleaseplease.”

Jensen gets his fingertips brushing over Jared’s prostate again, brings his mouth so close to Jared’s cock his lips brush against it as he speaks. 

"Yeah Jay, gonna make you come. Just for me." And with that, Jensen’s lips close over the head of Jared’s cock and slide down, down until Jared’s pushing into the tight clutch of Jensen’s throat. Between the fingers setting off explosions behind Jared’s eyes and the warm, wet mouth drawing pleasure up through Jared’s body, he doesn’t stand a chance. The sight of Jensen’s lips stetched over his cock, cheeks pink and hollowed, burning green eyes still locked on Jared’s face, pushes him over the edge and he comes, body clamping down on Jensen’s fingers as wave after wave of pleasure knock every last coherent thought right out of him. 

When he opens his eyes, body still shivering through aftershocks, Jensen’s watching him closely, stretched out on the bed beside him. 

"Mmfff," Jared mumbles, and the corners of Jensen’s eyes crease in a rare smile. Jared fumbles for Jensen’s pants, wanting to return the favor, but Jensen stops him. 

"In a minute," he whispers. Jared falls back against the bed and Jensen wraps an arm around him, every square inch of warm skin against his like molasses-thick pleasure sinking into his bloodstream. Jared’ll pull out of it in a second, and then maybe Jensen will let Jared go down on him, and then maybe they’ll talk about whatever just happened.

Either way, this is the best Jared thinks he’s ever felt and he’s willing to draw it out for every second Jensen’ll give him. 


End file.
